Chapters of the Forsaken
by PerennialOutlander
Summary: THREE in.It’s been months since Yami disappeared. Both are in the grips of change, by their own choice and unwilling. It’ll lead to… Strange, the domain of lost spirits is…
1. Iron Man

**Chapter 1: Iron Man**

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Disclaimer: I do not legally own the rights to Yu-Gi-Oh! or any other of its company or creators affiliates. I'm just a fanfiction writer that puts the FanFiction law to good use. Any trivia that I use, I use with the same law in mind.

Summary: Yami and Kaiba, both alone with their thoughts at an ungodly hour, end up together in Kaiba's kitchen due to the most unlikely, ominous circumstances. Strange, the domain of lost spirits is…

Notes: when Kaiba is used, it is from Yami's perspective; when Seto, from Seto. Freedom is taken as well with respect to their respective pasts.

Song: Iron Man – Black Sabbath

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Fingers tapping away in irritation. _**Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap**_.

**I am Iron Man**

A steadfast, cold gaze was directed towards the wall, seeming to quiver in the wrath that poured from the ice-blue eyes. Meanwhile the screen of his laptop flickered with the KaibaCorp logo, infernally patient for him to type in a new command or pull up an engineering design that he would fix and tweak. He sighed heavily as he dropped his head into his raised cupped palm, his brunette fringe dropping in his line of sight. He flicked it back with dexterous fingers but it just flopped back, pissing him off even more that was his usual manner. He leant back into his desk-chair and stared at the screen, his face a mask of blankness. He was completely unaware as the door of his study opened a crack and Mokuba peeked in, checking up. It was really late, or, to be more accurate, it was very early. It was almost one in the morning and Mokuba's bleary eyes surveyed his brother in somewhat a mixed combination of shock and worry. _Why the heck is Seto up so late?_

**Has he lost his mind**

**Can he see or is he blind**

Mokuba shook his head to clear away some of the cobwebs lurking in his head. He knew that he couldn't do anything to stop or deter Seto when he was like that, a complete statue, except a mobile one; he knew it was an oxymoron, but that's what his brother was like. He pulled his head from the door and gently closed it, padding back to his bedroom. He sighed a small sigh at the fruitlessness of his worry, but then his mind turned inwards again as he fell asleep beneath the covers of his large bed.

**Can he walk at all**

**Or if he moves will he fall**

It was too late to be out walking the streets, but that's what he was doing, and nothing could really stop him when he was as deep in thought as he was at the present moment. A minute breeze brushed across his bare arms, carrying the chill of almost freezing temperatures, but he didn't notice things like that, he ignored them even though he had an insisted-upon jacket tied round his waist. He stopped walking for a second and studied his immediate surroundings. He noted the elaborately wrought steel gates, some creeping with sharp-tipped roses and others bare and naked as the occupants. He then looked across the street onto a forbidding mansion, dark and almost soulless except for the faint outline of a kid's bike locked near the front door. He looked up to the second floor windows and a light suddenly flared on. The outline of a tall, slight man burned through the curtains, and suddenly, those too were drawn back, revealing the bitter face of Seto Kaiba as he glanced out to the sky. His own curious mix of crimson irises examined Kaiba's face for some shred of emotion besides the shrewd loner that he projected.

**Is he alive or dead**

**Has he thoughts within his head**

He settled himself on the cold curb, contemplating the past that he shared with this man-child. No one could actually say to Yami's face that Kaiba was a full grown man in a sense without him distancing himself from that person, because he knew the tricks one could learn to hide yourself from the world, he knew the true masks that one could create to conceal the cracked soul beneath. A small part of him speculated as to why his thoughts were revolving around the dragon-like spectre. As much as Kaiba would like to deny, there were some other people in the world that had some sort of emotional attachment to him, whether really good or bad. As knees balanced in the crook of his elbows held together by entwined fingers, there was a sub-conscious decision to stay and see what filled Kaiba's early morning hours, the domain of the lost spirits.

**We'll just pass him there**

**Why should we even care**

Seto stared out at the stars, his eyes aimlessly traversing the constellations, a voice in the back of his mind naming the specific stars and their groupings. Sometimes he wished that he could look at them as he would have if he had a normal childhood. But now, all that was in his mind were cold-hard facts and the reality of the future. He came closer to the glass, bare fingers touching the freezing glass and causing shadows of steam to grow and swell from his fingertips. He spread his whole hand, palm outwards, on the glass, and watched idly as the condensation seem to take on a life of its on, growing in magnitude, sharpening the handprint into that of a monster's paw. He pulled his hand back suddenly and watched as it receded: everyone had their own demons, not excluding him. And that switched his mind to his adversary, Yami.

**He was turned to steel**

**In the great magnetic field**

It wasn't Yugi anymore that he battled against at every turn: it was the pharaoh that filled his mind with a curiosity and an endless want to prove himself against; against a man that seemed to be as alike to him as a twin: the same icy countenance that instead of being concentrated against people wanting contact with him, like Seto, was concentrated against the enemies that warred against them, that was constantly used to save the world. _A reluctant but willing hero; that is what Yami is and will always be_.

**When he travelled time**

**For the future of mankind**

Yami knew that as he viewed Kaiba suddenly snatch his hand away that there was always going to a chasm between Kaiba and the rest of humanity. And he felt sorrow for him. No one deserved to wander the world with a seemingly singular purpose on the outside and conflicting emotions and raw wounds within his own heart and mind. His eyes sought the stars above him as well, trying to see what the other man was seeing. Did Kaiba see connections up there; did his thoughts wander to childish wishes on stars? What had Kaiba done when Mokuba had come to him and asked why his wish wasn't granted? How had Kaiba handled that fantasy in his reality-driven world, that fantasy where the imagination ruled and lies weren't lies but alternate realms of a child? Kaiba was wanted by only one person emotionally. _What does Kaiba do with the rest of the world?_

**Nobody wants him**

**He just stares at the world**

Seto's eyes gazed into the glass, looking down on the distorted view of the mown lawn, the concrete path winding its way down to the gate. His thoughts snaked along it, brushing him against the hard memories of his past. He felt a curious build-up in his eyes and recognized the feeling as one he had had almost every day of his life with his stepfather, when he protected Mokuba against an emotionless man who wanted only fame and fortune from his eldest adopted son. It had been too late for Seto, but there was never too much time when it came to Mokuba, never too much will to fight for his younger brother's innocence. He recalled lying awake at night in their connected bedroom, the planning that had gone on until all hours of the morning and sometimes right through; all that childishness that had been driven out with a shovel so that he could carve out something that resembled what he willingly gave up for Mokuba. And that day had come when he had legally emancipated himself from that tyrant when he was thirteen. He allowed a small grin of triumph to flash across his features, very strangely innocent, a remnant of the abandoned. But he had never gotten the victory that he strived for.

**Planning his vengeance**

**That he will soon unfurl**

Sooner or later, Yami knew that Kaiba would eventually spot him, but he really didn't care. Which was something to think on. Yami felt that sometimes he strived too hard to crash through Kaiba's barriers, but there was something within Kaiba that hooked you to fight for him. Even though that flickering candle was hidden under a fog of stubbornness and suspicion. Yami thought on the first time he had really known of Kaiba, when they had battled that first of many battles where he had won with Exodia. Yugi had been frightened, completely understandable, but within Yami there had also been speck of fear, but it wasn't the fear of the man itself and his testaments: it was the fear that somehow, in the hazy residue of his memories, he wouldn't be able to sacrifice himself to save this one, that there would be one in the world that he wouldn't be able to save.

**Now the time is here**

**For iron man to spread fear**

He remembered Duellist Kingdom. He remembered Pegasus kidnapping his brother. He remembered that hollow he had felt inside when he realized that he might not get Mokuba back, and how quickly it had seemed to fade but had been present in his desperation to get his brother back. He remembered squaring off with Yugi on the top of the tower and forcing Yami's hand. He remembered the taste of bile in the back of his throat when he had stood on the rampart, daring Yami to use his Celtic Guardian against him to win and in the process, kill him. He remembered how he had had to resort to emotions to win, something that he thought he had ripped out of himself. He remembered how even in that he had lost and had been sent to that place of evil, that dark place that sucked at his very soul, and he hadn't even been able to find his brother in all that malevolence. Now, he recalled cheering Yugi on. But he also recalled that the minute he had been freed, he had striven to loose himself from that thread Yugi and his friends offered him; and that had nearly cost him Mokuba during Battle City.

**Vengeance from the grave**

**Kills all the people he once saved**

Yami could see the hatred that dwelt in the eyes of Joey. Of Tristan. Of the hopeless faith that Teà time and time again tried to give Kaiba but was rejected. He could see the determination even in Yugi's eyes, an inflexible need to connect to Kaiba and bring him out into the sunlight. They soon gave up. Anybody else that tried to get close to Kaiba had inevitably looked the other way when they had seen that depth in his eyes; that sneer across his mouth; that feeling that he was judging them unworthy of his intelligence. He felt himself sighing, watching his breath mist before him and swirl into the breeze.

**Nobody wants him **

**They just turn their heads**

_What missing link does Kaiba need? Want? _He thought tiredly. He looked up to amber light shining from the lamp within the mansion that still outlined the figure of Kaiba. Kaiba was resting his head on his arm that was braced against the glass, looking out to the shadows_. Kaiba, come out of your shell, no one deserves it more than you. Please live for once and ask for a hand to lead you. Please; it is never too late._

**Nobody helps him**

**Now he has his revenge**

His head ached. His whole body ached. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to feel that sense of freedom that only broken spirits knew of, that peace that they were reputed to have. Listless, he leant his forearm against the glass and then his burning forehead. He ached for that something that he couldn't put words to. He felt it emitting from his chest, an unsteady throb that left him dizzy. He pulled his gaze from the swaying branches outside, the leaves shining like shook foil, and stared bleakly into the bare-minimum study. There wasn't anything that made it personal. No memorabilia of a good life. Nothing that meant anything to him, which showcased his interests and a kind of comfort. He felt himself disconnect from it, felt the resonating click as he looked on his life from a stranger's perspective. What was he trying to prove? Cold sweat popped up on his forehead and began to run down his face.

He was turning into his stepfather. He was turning into the man that he had sworn that he would never be, that dictator of his soul. He began to panic, his heart racing, his hands shaking; he felt like a caged bird, wings clipped, completely unable to enter the world that he had been born into. The walls seemed to be shrinking in on him, boxing him in. Eyes wide from an inner terror, he bolted around his desk and burst through the door, the doors slamming against the wall. He just began to run, running down the carpeted hallway till he reached the stairs where he immediately began to sprint down. Without warning, his bare foot slipped and he felt himself tumbling down, his limbs banging against the wall, knocking the antique wooden banister solidly, his head smacking against the floor as he landed in a heap at the bottom of the staircase. Fire spread through his skull as he sat up woozily. His vision blurry, he still experienced the urge to just run away from everything. He stood up shakily, the lower level of the house pitch-black except for the faint traces of the security lights that shone through covered windows. He cautiously took a step and then another, and another, his speed picking up and suddenly he was running again, running for all that he was worth. Some instinct that was still his grabbed his leather boots and shoved them on while still running, a feat that normally would have sent Mokuba into hysterics, but now just fed the dread of the night and his mind.

**Heavy boots of lead**

**Fills his victims full of dread**

Yami stood up hastily when he saw Kaiba's face change into one filled with fear. He watched as Kaiba's eyes darted from side to side like a caged animal ready for the slaughter by greed-driven hunters. He saw Kaiba suddenly vanishing from the glass and he could only think as to what was racing through his mind. In his worry for the child that had appeared briefly at the window, it felt like millenia before he began to run across the street towards the house when abruptly Kaiba crashed through the heavy oaken doors and had begun to weave down the concrete path. Yami saw the fever that was driving him wild in his eyes and hurried to intercept Kaiba before he exited out onto the street.

**Running as fast as they can**

**Iron man lives again**

Seto felt strong, calloused hands grip his arms, squeezing tightly to keep a hold of him. His breaths came out ragged, forming jagged clouds of steam and his heart still raced, the blood pumping ferociously through his system. His thoughts were jumping from here to there, from the sane to the nether regions of madness. He struggled to get out of the handhold but the hands held fast, locked onto him. He heard a faint voice, someone calling. As his mind began to gain control, he realized that _that_ someone was calling him.

"Kaiba! Listen to me! Come back! Come back from wherever you are!" a rough masculine voice ordered. Seto's heart began to relax, following the concern that was in the voice. He stopped struggling to free himself and instead let himself begin to calm, to let his mind drift back into the rational. The fingers relaxed only a bit before they began to pull him back towards the mansion. Seto wasn't acknowledging who it was that was helping him, or where they were going, but he trusted this person.

Yami looked into Kaiba's dilated pupils and questioned as to whether Kaiba's state of mind was settling down as he led him up the drive. There was no telling whether Kaiba had heard him or was so broken in spirit that he would follow anything quietly. He couldn't be sure and his steps quickened as he felt Kaiba's clammy, bare skin shivering in his palms. He pulled Kaiba into the hallway. Looking around for something to seat Kaiba in, he could find nothing, so instead pulled Kaiba into a one-armed embrace and locked the door behind him.

Seto felt someone hold him gruffly but gently, one arm managing to wind itself around his entire torso. Sparks of sanity flashed in his skull along with a throbbing migraine. He somehow knew that he was back in the mansion. He somehow knew that something right was finally happening. And he also knew that the person leading him was totally lost. Wherever he was trying to lead him.

Yami could admit defeat when he knew he was defeated, but he wasn't going to give up that easily. The kitchen had to be somewhere around and he needed to try and get something calming into Kaiba to bring him back from the brink he stood on, the little that he knew about shock treatment. He looked up into Kaiba's face for a second and saw that Kaiba had let his hair begin to grow out. It was now in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck, while the rest of his hair still acted like a fringe. He was startled at the amount of time that had passed since their last interaction.

Yami finally found something that resembled an industrial kitchen, clear-cut surfaces and the germ-phobic state of cleanliness that told him of the fastidiousness of Kaiba on the servants. He led Kaiba to a kitchen-stool who meekly sat on the hard surface, his own mind drinking in the details and dismissing those that didn't resemble what he had in mind. He didn't actually know if Kaiba would have anything of the sort in his house, but it didn't hurt to look. Releasing his hand hold, he began to wonder among the cupboards.

Seto, still disconnected from his body, only felt the leading presence leave him. He could feel the panic begin to build up again but he quenched it, an alertness returning to his mind that knew he could trust that the person helping wasn't far away. He leant forward and touched a cold, flat surface. It felt welcoming to him and he curled up into the chair, resting his arms and head on top of it. His breathing evened out and he felt himself drifting. Eyelids closed over dark, confused yet peaceful orbs.

Yami found the handle to the pantry and descended down the cold stairwell. Lights immediately snapped on, an audible hum buzzing from them and the coolers. Almost immediately, he found what he was looking for: a dark oaken liqueur cabinet. Almost bare except for three bottles, it showed something that made Yami proud of Kaiba, a strange niggling feeling in the base of his spine: he was glad that Kaiba never resorted to using things to overcome the stress of his highly set standards at KaibaCorp . He gently pulled a square-shaped bottle from the top rung and carried it back to the kitchen with him. He then sensed something was undeniably wrong. He cautiously stepped the last stairs upwards.

He found himself facing a sleeping Kaiba, a deeply disturbed sleeping Kaiba. He was muttering out loud, his face strained with a look of helpless pleading. Sweat ran down his face, along his temples, along the bridge of his nose. Yami watched, completely unnerved. He was used to evils on the outside, destructive forces, malicious spirits, but never had he had to fight inner demons born of the past. He left the bottle on the counter nearest him and approached Kaiba slowly, attempting to not alarm him into a worse state. Yami felt anxious about the steps he had already taken, wondering if they had really been the best option at the time.

_Seto couldn't see, there was so much darkness, so much blackness surrounding him. It was alive as it smothered his mind, his character lost in the strangling particles. Through his tears, he searched for the force striking at him, hitting him relentlessly with fists as hard as granite. He cried out, raising his arms to shield himself for further blows, but they kept coming, finding other places to hit at; digits of five curled into one torture but striking at different angles against his neck, his chest, his arms and stomach. It was like he was trapped in this small box of space on the floor, bars invisible to his eyes._

_The fog began to shift, drawing away from the blindness inflicted in this place; it was almost picturesque, like the opening curtains in a theatre. The cracks were licked by luminescent black flames, curling around the emerging tall figure, whose fist was calmly raised high above his head. Seto's heart beat faster and faster and with each throb, a wet red light flashed behind the figure. He looked into his stepfather's smooth face, watching in horror as it morphed into his own flesh and blood; saw himself frowning cruelly down at him, the eyes black pits of hidden madness and glee. His eyes widened, shivering violently in fear at the slowly descending fist. A maniacal laugh surrounded him, his own voice twisted into a monster's of the unfathomable depths; of the darkest seventh level of hell._

"_No! Please stop! You're hurting me! _No!!" his scream wrenched him from the nightmare, shooting him up from the chair. His eyes darted back and forth, not recognising where he was. His breath came in short gasps as the fear coursed through him like falling icicles. Then he caught sight of a slim shadow and it immediately took on the aspect of his stepfather, shimmering hatred eminent in his eyes. He slid off the chair, a fluid childlike movement, and tried to hide under the tabletop, his boots' heels slipping against the tiles in a rapidly engulfing panic as he tried to back away from the approaching apparition, one arm raised above his head as a shield. Eyes widened in fear then shut themselves tightly, tears flowing helplessly down his cheeks from the damp corners, mingling with his struggles.

"Please don't hurt me, please, I promise I'll be good, I'll work harder, just please stop hitting me…" he whispered brokenly, repeating over and over the same sentences. Sobs cracked through, sometimes taking over so completely that he couldn't speak and could only just whimper as they wracked through his chest. Suddenly someone had him in their arms, hugging Seto to a warm body, gently rocking him. The ghostly figure vanished as if it wasn't there, replaced by this gentle person who held him tightly but tenderly. Seto felt his tears take over him completely and he howled into their chest, letting everything out. He clutched at their clothes, gripping it rigidly with his trembling fingers. He curled into their lap, held more tightly by long arms as he continued to sob. His comforter continued to rock him, shushing him quietly, constantly reassuring him that it was all right now.

Yami was shocked: utterly; completely; stunned to the outline of his soul. He never knew the level of anguish and pain that made up Kaiba's being. Who could ever have guessed that Kaiba had undergone such… atrocities in his childhood? Ra, it made him thirst for blood reckoning! Yami clutched him to his chest more tightly, yearning to take away Kaiba's madness. _Why would anyone try and hurt a child, this child? _But that was one thing Yami knew he could not answer. The most that he could do in the here and now was be with Kaiba, and help him get through this. Help him get through this even when Kaiba realised what had happened, was happening, to him; even when he tried to fight his way out of admitting what happened; even when he refuse Yami's help point-blank.

It was then that Yami felt a shift in Kaiba, a subtle slowing down in his cries. He felt him moving from the spot in Yami's chest that he had sobbed into, freeing his head from the wet shirt. Yami looked down into Kaiba's eyes and felt an unwelcome chill come over him as he saw the ice-sheet fall over the blue orbs. He knew then. He knew that Kaiba was somehow back in control of himself. From there, he didn't know what was going to happen.

Seto felt, physically, the broken puzzle pieces of his sanity fitting back into his brain. Flashes of other memories, other peoples; his little brother; KaibaCorp; Blue-Eyes White Dragon hovering over him as he stood in a podium before a giant chess-like board. All things that happened in HIS now rushed flickering past before his eyes like a holographic screen. And also…

"Yami," he whispered hoarsely, feeling the rawness in his throat. His eyes focused on the reality in front of him. For some reason he was staring into the crimson-scarlet irises of his adversary. Somehow he was looking up into eyes that were full of disquiet, no: _pity_ that was aimed at him. And he also realized that Yami had been holding him. On. His. Lap.

He scrambled away from Yami, getting to his feet in such a hurry before the shakiness of the night's events took its toll on his limbs, causing him to stumble for a handhold on the kitchen-table. He grasped the edge with weak fingers, panting with the effort. Yami came towards him but Seto shoved himself away from his touch. Yami stood there, looking helpless, but in Seto's mind, oh so righteous. Some part of Seto was still confused, a young boy desperate for the contact it had had when it was in Yami's arms; the other was furious, cold, welling up in him, overpowering the small boy, shutting him out.

"This is what you wanted all along, isn't it? You wanted to get Seto Kaiba when he was down and weak," he spat out. He threw his hands up in the air in mock surrender. "Well, you got it. So why don't you get the hell out of MY house, and go and brag to all your little friends? It'll be the accomplishment of the week, no, the month, no, their _entire lifetimes_!" he exclaimed venomously. Yami reached a hand towards him, palm open. He stopped before it could get too far, left it hanging frozen in the air. As Seto glared at him, Yami's eyes began to change; where once they had been full of worry they now became filled with a blank mask of anger. He turned away from Seto, drawing his hand to him that had begun clenching into a fist. He closed his eyes, breathing through his mouth. Seto gripped the table edge tighter.

"I said, _get out_." Seto hissed at him. Yami's head snapped up, eyes locked onto Seto. He studied him like a wounded animal would his attacker before he struck the mortal his death wound: eyes calm with a blazing bloodlust for justice. Seto held down the fear that clawed up his spine. Yami had no right being furious: he had been the one that had, that had…

"I try. By Ra, I try; no one can say I never did. I look at you, Kaiba, and there's something that tells me to save you. And it won't let me yield!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the table. He turned towards Kaiba and walked to him till he was almost in his face, looking straight into cobalt eyes that were level with his own. "I've battled you at every turn. You've aimed to hurt me every time we meet. We are, were adversaries. You refuse to take our offers of friendship. I don't know whether it's my character that's fixed on saving you, or the obligations that I've had to take on in my past, but I cannot give up on you," he said quietly. Kaiba continued to look at him. Yami sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, looking away. "I don't even know what I'm saying. I…I don't know. Kaiba, tell me, why do I have to rescue you?" he asked Kaiba, looking at him. Kaiba stood there shakily, shivering still with shock, answers still not forthcoming. Yami's eyes filled with distress at the silence before he abruptly turned away from Kaiba and ran out, doors banging wildly behind him.

He ran until he reached the street outside the mansion, his chest heaving with the exertion of running and unrest. He fell bodily to the curb, hands shakily raised to his face that was fast becoming wet with sweat and hated tears. _Never an answer, always a question, why must I help him?! _

"Please Ra, yield me some answers!" he shouted to the sky. The heavens remained silent, leaving him afraid of what else might happen that night. He looked behind him, stared at the still open front door. There was no movement from within the house, no sign of the change that had come about between the two souls. He turned back, forcing his gaze away. What else was he supposed to do? _Nothing_, he told himself, _absolutely nothing._ Yami rose dejectedly from the curb, brushing the invisible dirt from his black jeans. He buttoned his jacket and then stuck his hands into his jean pockets. He glanced back once, his eyes slowly drying. He could see that here, there wasn't going to be any understanding, and no healing. For either of them.

"Goodbye Kaiba," he whispered, letting himself melt back into the darkness, his namesake..

Seto was still where Yami had left him. He stumbled to the kitchen chair, sitting down heavily. Yami's last words echoed round his skull. _Kaiba, tell me, why do I have to rescue you? _Seto tried looking at himself through Yami's eyes. Did he need saving? Was he as vulnerable as Yami saw he was? Was he more unguarded than he thought he was? Why hadn't Yami just spouted one of his many platitudes? _Why, why, fucking why?!_ he yelled to himself, screwing his eyes shut.

Out there he knew was a person who wanted to be his friend.

**An End.**


	2. Remember

**Iron Man**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Remember**

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Disclaimer: I do not legally own the rights to Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any other of its company or creators affiliates. I'm just a fanfiction writer that puts the FanFiction law to good use. Any trivia that I use, I use with the same law in mind.

Summary: It's been weeks since that night of confrontation. Yami and Kaiba, both alone, watch the sun set into night. Strange, the domain of lost spirits is…

Notes: when Kaiba is used, it is from Yami's perspective; when Seto, from Seto. Freedom is taken as well with respect to their respective pasts.

Dedications: this chapter is for Lionessmon (UID 955517)

Song: Remember - Disturbed

* * *

**PO**

* * *

"_Kaiba!"_

"_Yugi!"_

* * *

**Sensation washes over me**

**I can't describe it**

Why? Why does it hurt so much…to be called that name?

But why do I let myself be called that?

**Pain I felt so long ago**

I think there has to be reason, I _know_ there is!

…but why?

**I don't remember**

* * *

"Seto!" Mokuba called his name repeatedly. The young echo scattered through the mansion, returning unaccompanied by the sound of his brother's footfalls. His eyes crinkled in worry as he ran to Seto's office. The door was open, the lights were off… Mokuba stepped towards the desk, looking for clues. Everything was neatly packed away; the top was bare except for Seto's silent laptop. Mokuba's fingers touched the plastic surface briefly before exiting the room. He pulled the door shut behind him. He wouldn't interfere.

* * *

Soon the day would end. The clouds would shift to the other side of the world; the colours would switch to the photo-negative. The water would calm… and the world would carry on, even though it had lost another day of life.

Seto watched the fading light, sprawled uncharacteristically across a beach bench. Nobody bothered him, all occupied with their primary lives, all in their own little world. The scarlet flame broke through the black horizon. It pierced his eyes, stabbed through to the back of his skull.

**Tear a hole so I can see**

**My devastation**

He didn't blink.

He was feeling…what? Loneliness? Withdrawn? Is this what he had sown for himself? Is this what he was becoming, was this his metamorphosis? He shook his head.

_Kaiba, Kaiba, Kaiba, Kaiba, Kaiba, Kaiba, Kaiba, Kaiba, Kaiba…nine years a Kaiba, nine years of sacrifice…_

_Nein! I deny it, I am NOT a Kaiba; I am Seto! Nein, no!_

He opened his eyes to slits. The last spark of sunlight fizzled out. He hissed in annoyance, his fingers curling into a fist.

**Feelings from so long ago**

**I don't remember**

**Holding on, to let them know**

On a day like this, there was no point in trying to withdraw. It was atypical to his birthright, anyway. Leaning forward on the rail, Yami looked out to ocean. His mind was caught on the night of weeks ago. He felt that he done wrong, in giving up in him, because… in that lifetime, he hadn't. _hadn't he_… he gritted his teeth in old anger. He had done something, to save them all. He hadn't stopped trying.

He had tried, and succeeded.

**What's given to me, given to me**

his fingers relaxed, imagining taking the hand: holding it close to his heart, where _he_ had touched and soothed, had breathed rightness. A small shard of peace came into his mind then.

**To hide behind**

Yami wiped away the wet spray on his cheeks. He didn't cry, he had never wept as far back as he could remember. He always held back, even when he shared Yugi's soul. A dark room, a place where he had locked himself, a place he grieved for now, _to hide back in_. to hide a caring, to hide away the sentinel, nameless pharaoh he had once been.

**The mask this time**

Seto slowly opened his eyes. The sun had disappeared, the stars were out. He was cold in the salty breeze. He was cold all the time, now. He had only realized that as the night had died away. He pulled his coat tighter around him, pulling himself straighter. He was as cold as the ocean that he stared at now, the only thing that kept him calm, brought him to a state of numbness that he could endure with his thoughts.

**And try to believe**

Or so he thought.

**Blind your eyes to what you see**

Whenever he had seen something, heard something, that reminded him of… _him_: he had felt this wave of peace come over him. it was… _more_ than these ocean waves. He felt suspended over this life. free. Only Seto.

**You can embrace it**

It was a shadow, pressed into his skin. he could not forget the sensation of Kaiba's body on top of his, the way his arms had easily wrapped around his lean form. It was hard to forget the way that Kaiba had clung to him; the way that he had needed someone… so he could finally break. Yami rested his arms again on the railing. He wouldn't cry now. his tears were the dry kind, the kind you held inside when you looked at yourself in the mirror. That he woke up to… _don't go there again._

**Leave it well enough alone  
And don't remember**

He wanted it out of his head, his mind! He wanted to not remember, he wanted that state of knowing where you didn't know what you had been missing, so you never felt its absence. He didn't want to have it in his physical memory. He didn't want to know that he had refused the only person that could understand him.

**Cut your pride and watch it bleed**

He stood, buttoning his coat to under his chin. There was nothing he could do now. his pride had been his downfall. He had let it take over, let it tighten and rust around him so that when it eventually broke, everything cracked, and now he was left trying to weld himself back together with the leftover, inferior pieces. He didn't like it. He didn't want them. But they were stuck to him, it _was _him, all his choices, his memories, his pasts.

He looked out to the dark waves. He could faintly see the outline of the water. Maybe he should take its advice. Just… he let his hand unfold from around his elbow to grip the pole railing. Just…

**You can't deny it**

… let it go. He couldn't dwell on it any longer. There were too many things that had happened, he didn't want to add this to his past. He honestly did not want to question any longer. He was too tired. He had lived too long - he could barely remember any of it, but there was too much … he bent down over arms, letting his face hang over the water. _I'm just so tired… all of it, is ephemeral. Nothing is solid. I need a constant. _

**Pain you know you can't ignore**

_I know we both have it: building, festering, making us sick. It's contaminated us: neither of us can function anymore with 'normal' people. Not that that's in our nature…_ frustrated, Yami fisted his hair in his fingers, pulling at the roots.

**I don't remember**

_I can't forget…_

_I don't want to forget…_

**Holding on, to let them know**

**What's given to me, given to me**

_Yami… come back… let me know what it is to feel…_

**To hide behind**

**The mask this time**

He had to go back. He had to disappear again. he wouldn't give up this life, or this body, too many people had been involved in his release. But he would withdraw.

Become a spirit again.

**And try to believe**

It started to rain. Gentle drops fell onto his coat, darkening the spots to an even deeper blue. He felt his hair begin to stick to his scalp. He raised his face to the clouds, actually… _enjoying _the sensation. When had he ever… letting go. He was letting go- he was letting go! He was… breathing, experiencing, living! He raised his fists to the sky, felt it build within him…

**If I can**

**Remember**

**To know this will**

**Conquer me**

"you can't have me anymore!" he screamed into the sky. "I won't let you rule my life! he set me free!" he let the roar escape from his throat, a sound he had never heard before in his life. it startled him into silence. And his last statement.

**If I can**

**Just walk alone**

**And try to escape**

**Into me**

His head shot up at the sound. He straightened, looking around. _what was that? _he shook his head. He was just hearing things, probably remembering... he had to go, the lull of the ocean was getting to him. the rain pelted his head and shoulders, instantly soaking into the fabric. he had only a few minutes before he would be completely wet. He pulled the collar of the jacket tight around his neck.

But it still didn't change his decision. He would leave. It would hurt Yugi, more than the others, but he would learn, he had been there with Yami through situations that had sent them brushing past death a number of times. He was strong.

But how strong was he? He was an alien in this world… he tightened his grip. he would make it. The rain began to pour.

**Sensation washes over me**

**I can't describe it**

Home. He needed to be home. He needed to be with family. He wanted to be with Mokuba. to show him, he didn't know how, that he was different. That he was willing to change. That he _could_… he turned from the view and started to walk back to his car parked at the edge of the curb.

**Pain I felt so long ago**

**I don't remember**

He hurried away from the railing, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Just before he reached the sidewalk, his left boot sunk into a deep pothole. There was a second of suspension, and then he fell hard onto the sidewalk, his hands scraping along the gravel. He felt the uneven edge of the hole stab through his jeans and let out an uncontrolled yell of pain; and then his hands lost traction, and he landed awkwardly on his side, his foot freed.

He lay there for a few minutes, stunned and breathless, propped up by his bleeding hands; and then he twisted his body round so he was sitting on the edge of the curb. He crooked his knees up and rested his arms on the top of his knees, letting his hands dangle. He couldn't hold his head up: for the moment, he was defeated. And he was glad that he was alone, that every body was overcrowding in the misted restaurant behind him. he needed to recover.

**I'm just holding on, to let them know**

Just a few minutes longer and then he would leave. He shivered in the cold. _Just a little longer…_ He couldn't stretch it out any longer. His hair dripped water into his lap. _Let me have a little longer…_

**What's given to me, given to me**

_Is that_… he froze. The rain increased, turning into an onslaught of water, but he didn't move; he couldn't. this couldn't be a coincidence... He rushed out of the rain, past the front of his car…and stopped.

"Yami?" he said tentatively. he stiffened, and then slowly raised his head.

**To hide behind**

**The mask this time**

_The Gods are toying with me. _he looked up at Kaiba through strands that clung to his cheeks. He didn't bother to brush them away, he was already a mess.

"what happened to you?" _not, 'what are you doing here?'. _he could feel his eyes probing Kaiba's, for some clue or indication as to what he was thinking. And doing. But nothing was revealed in those dark, cobalt irises, and he forced himself to stop looking for something that was never there in the first place.

"I fell," he said bluntly. _I cannot let him see how that night still haunts me. does it still haunt him? I cannot see, and I wish I could!_

"I can see that." he hesitated for a second, and then sat down next to Yami, not close enough to touch, but enough for their personal boundaries to overlap. He was taken aback at the action.

"what are you doing?" he demanded.

"sitting," he answered, perfectly matching his blunt tone to Yami's. he lazily straightened one leg out to the edge of their cover.

"I can see that, Kaiba. _Why _are you doing that? you banished me from your home, and your life, I see no reason for you to be here in the rain with me," he said, vexed. A low rumble of thunder sounded over them, and they both looked up involuntarily. Yami turned back to Kaiba, but he was still staring into the sky.

_Is there no reason? what if he's here because of- no, that can't be it. My words could not have affected him in any way, he shut himself off from that possibility. Closed himself even tighter because of me._ Yami turned away, his gaze resting on his bloody palms. _but then why…?_

**And try to believe**

He couldn't get the words out. The epiphany he had had, the life of isolation that he was now starting to put behind him… he found himself unable to frame them with words, and it left him frustrated and troubled that he couldn't give Yami an answer.

**If I can**

_If only I could… say it without it meaning something else, without my usual acid. _He ran his hand through hair, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Yami was staring at his hands. His-

"what happened to your hands!" he exclaimed, dropping his relaxed posture and almost grabbing his hand. Yami half-turned to face him and then turned back to his hands. He looked confused.

"I told you, I fell." And hurt, beyond physical pain.

**Remember**

_From where? Where did you fall from? Why do you make me care? Why doesn't this feel wrong, this not wanting to disappoint _you_? you called me back, you comforted me, you…held me until I was free. _He didn't stop his hand as it slowly reached for Yami's. his fingertips touched his. he didn't react and Seto went further, threading his fingers through Yami's and locking the tips against the ball of his palm. He turned their hands over, and with his right hand, gently touched the edges of the angry cuts. Finally, Yami looked at him.

"what are you doing?" he whispered. uncertainty flashed in his eyes.

"touching… I think," Seto answered slowly.

"why?"

"because-" he had the answer now, the words… they came without difficulty, without pain, without confusion. he understood -

"I want to."

**To know this will**

**Conquer me**

It felt as if Kaiba had hit him squarely in the stomach. He had no air to answer. He was dazed, overwhelmed. _This cannot be happening. _Kaiba, being honest. Kaiba, talking to him. Kaiba, out of his comfort zone and straight into his. Kaiba _wanting _to acknowledge _him_. his hand jerked from Kaiba's grip.

**If I can**

"Seto, no," he stuttered, holding his hand to his chest. Seto looked at him intensely.

"no what?" he asked softly.

"this. This is not what you're looking for."

"how do you know it's not?" he countered.

"because it's not! you're projecting on me your- whatever you're feeling! You're still in the thrall of that night-"

"I'm not." Yami shook his head furiously.

"yes, you are. You can't know what you're doing, you can't, because this isn't you-"

"it is. Yami, it is me. I want to-"

"STOP!" Yami exclaimed hoarsely. He squeezed his eyes shut against the confusion, against the tide of the here and now. something wasn't right in this, something incredibly important was missing in all this, and Yami couldn't see what it was; he couldn't even begin to describe what it's shape was, or the details. There was just this big hole in the centre of his chest , aching to be filled, but with _what? _He opened his eyes again, to the patient, cold eyes of Seto Kaiba still looking at him with that intent frown on his face, a probing look in his pupils, searching Yami for something too.

"no. you don't know what you want. You didn't that night, and yet you still rejected me, you still rejected my offer of wanting to help you, so you could learn to define what exactly it is that you want." He paused to take in air, and Seto interrupted his inhalation.

"Yami, I do. I want- I want… I want you!" he exclaimed. He felt his eyes widen in shock, again that cold fist hitting him squarely in the stomach. Seto's cheeks had gone a light red.

"no. no! you don't understand what it is you're wanting, and I can't give it to you!" he scrambled upright, ignoring the pain in his leg, his palms, his core.

"why not? I want to be with you, Yami! I want to tell you everything, I want to listen to you, I want your words! I need to be with you, Yami, because you're the only person to have woken me up from my nightmare, you're the only one that listens to my silence!" Seto said roughly, his voice filled with raw emotion. He stood up quickly and took a step towards Yami.

Yami took a step back.

**Just walk alone**

_I was just there. I hadn't intended on going there. I hadn't planned on seeing you, or saving you that night. I've wanted to save you for so long, but from yourself, _your_ past! I don't want to help you this time, I don't want to save you from this reckless conclusion you've come too. You need to save yourself, you need to make sense of it all by yourself. You cannot have me beside you, destroying that. _

_I've done it to you before, I know I have. I've saved you and destroyed you, in just one breath. I can't do it a third time because that means that there's an end to all of this, and I don't know what that end is. I _don't_ want to know the end, because it involves me too._

He took another step back, and suddenly turned and ran. Puddles of water exploded under his boots as the rain hit and punctured into his jacket. He heard pounding footsteps behind him, but he didn't turn to look. He couldn't turn to look.

**And try to escape**

"Yami, wait!" he screamed at the fleeing figure in front of him. he kept running, zigzagging in and out of the light, into the shadows, into the black of the dark.

"Wait!" he shouted again, still running after him. even though he was the taller of them, Yami still managed to outpace him. "please, stop!" he screamed, not caring if people heard. And then he vanished completely, the blonde streaks of his hair flashing like a dying spark, and then…

Nothing. Seto stopped at the place where he thought Yami had vanished, looking and squinting through the rain. His fringe dripped over his eyes and he whipped it back furiously.

"YAMI!" he yelled. "where are you?" he yelled futilely. Nothing but the rain answered back. He turned one way, and then the next. "Yami!" he shouted. His fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't have disappeared, not now…

**Into me**

"Why did you go? Why did you run away again!" he screamed into the darkness. "I need you to tell me what to do, I need you to show me the way!" he cried out, spinning around.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry for what I did! I'm sorry I said those things to you, I'm sorry that I hated you for doing those things! Please Yami, come back! Don't leave me to go back! I don't want to go back to before!" he thought he caught a glimpse of red and his heart leapt, only to sink back down when it was just the reflection of a brake-light.

" I don't know what I want. But I know I need you to be with me, I need to be with you!" he yelled. "you're the only one who ever understood, the only way who didn't force anything on me, except to be me- me, the person who was buried so long ago," he said softly, his fingers relaxing as his body drained of energy.

**Into me**

"_Yami…_" he whispered, defeated. His gaze dropped to the ground and he slowly made his way back to the car. He unlocked the door, and fell heavily into the seat. He had enough energy to close the door, lock himself in, fasten his seatbelt, turn the key in the ignition, switch the heater on, let the windows fog with the warm, stale mist… and then he folded his arms on the steering wheel and cried bitter, hated tears into the leather.

The cries of a little boy in a man's body.

The tears of a young man at a betrayal by someone close.

The hitching at the back of the throat of an old child, not knowing what to do now, or who to turn to, in this hour of desperation.

The drops of hate and undefined love of a boy, wanting his friend to hold him again.

**Into me**

Yami watched him from the corner he had hid in, the corners of his eyes prickling. _I heard you, Seto. I heard every word that you said, and did not speak._

_But I don't want to listen to silence. I don't want to be trapped again. I don't want to be held down by something beyond my understanding or power. _He knuckled his eyes as Seto continued to shake with crying in the driver's seat of his car.

_You should understand, you've lived it your whole life._

_You know why I left._

_You know why I can't handle it._

"You should know by now that my heart was never my own," he whispered. _take me, shadows. Take me away from here. but please Ra, spare him the loneliness. Spare him my weakness. I know I said I would, but I'm not strong enough to. _

_I remember now:_

_I never was. _

* * *

**An Opening.**


	3. I Am

**Chapter 3: I Am**

Disclaimer: I do not legally own the rights to Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any other of its company or creators affiliates. I'm just a fanfiction writer that puts the FanFiction law to good use. Any trivia that I use, I use with the same law in mind.

Summary: It's been months since Yami disappeared. Both are in the grips of change, by their own choice and unwilling. It'll lead to… Strange, the domain of lost spirits is…

Notes: I apologize for the confusion in further chapters, with regards to Yami now thinking of Seto as 'Seto'. Freedom is taken with respect to their respective pasts.

* * *

Song: I Am – Drowning Pool

* * *

**PO**

* * *

_Where the hell is he?_ he thought in exhaustion as he stared out of his study window. The sky was just lightening with dawn, and should have been the sight for rested eyes… but he hadn't slept that night. Sleep was the last thing on his mind in all this mess. Yami had been missing for nearly five months: he hadn't gone back to the game shop to collect his things, he hadn't been seen anywhere in Domino.

Out of desperation, and Mokuba's pleading with him to stop doing it all by himself, he had hired a PI. But even a professional idiot couldn't find the pharaoh, and was it really that difficult with that _hair? _He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

_I've never felt so dead._

**I've never felt so alive**

All he was doing now was living. To the extent of its definition in a dictionary, he had life. and that was what he was doing, now, in this darkness that hovered with stale smoke; hearing nothing but the continuous beat through the floor, the bar-top, his ears; seeing nothing but human lives letting go and getting intoxicated on the night, the addiction, or the noise.

It had no effect on him. except for the fact that here, he was nameless once again. Here, he blended well into the background. He lived by not betraying that life given. But he couldn't live on that alone.

**I've never had to run and hide**

He had had enough of fighting the world on others' behalves, enough of being constantly studied and scrutinized for the next wave of attack. He was sick to death of only being a target, and not a man.

**The things I want I cannot have**

As he wiped the counter for the second time, getting ready for the next lull in music, he wondered what would happen next in his lifetime. He had nothing to want anymore… no, he knew he still had something he craved. But he had written that letter, had signed his name, had sealed it, and had tossed it away into the black of his core. He had accepted that some things were just impossible.

**The things I need are all so bad**

And that those things were poisonous to the ones he cared about.

**I coulda been…**

He mechanically mixed the shots for a group crowding around one particular guy wearing a ridiculous and out-of-place party hat. They were laughing at his embarrassment whenever a girl looked over and he flushed red in reply. But he was taking it all in his stride, laughing with them too.

He wished he had that. he lined the glasses up for them and took the bills from an outstretched hand. As he was making change, he couldn't help but look at the man who had paid for all of it. He was their age, but he looked so much older, so uncomfortable at the antics of his friends, as out of place as the party hat. But he was making the effort to try and have some fun, and not show his discomfort, for the sake of the apparent birthday-boy.

… **I am**

That was who he was.

**You coulda been…**

He sat listlessly in his desk chair and stared at the KaibaCorp logo that was his screensaver. He couldn't focus on anything. He should have been working on improving the interface of the virtual Duel Monsters, but he couldn't. At extremes, his company could hold itself up quite well, without his inventions and upgrading. _For now._

So he wasn't making anyone suffer. Except Mokuba, and he didn't know how to deal with his little brother reacting to him in this way.

Why didn't he keep running after him? why had he wasted so much time in trying to deny everything that had happened in the kitchen that night? why didn't he see the change that Yami had brought about in him? there were so many missed opportunities, so many failed chances… and the burden of it all was on him.

_Fuck, I should have tried harder to listen!_

… **you are**

He looked at the glowing digital display of the clock beneath the counter top. Already four and only now was the club emptying. _Thank the Gods. _He turned to his supervisor who gave him a small nod, and he started discreetly collecting glasses and water pitchers. He dragged what he could to the back-room, the fluorescent light blinding him momentarily on his entry from the club. He kneeled on the floor in front of the open dishwasher, and started unloading the tub of glass onto the racks when the manager stepped in.

**My best excuse is that I'm drained**

"you're manning the decks next week," he told him. his head shot up in shock.

"you're shitting me, right?" he blurted out, inwardly wincing at his cursing. He brushed a loose, irritating strand of platinum behind his ear. the manager took a drag from his cigarette and shook his head.

"no. you got taste, Yami, and I want to test it out on the customers." Yami felt his ears redden, and then hastily tried to shake it off.

"but I don't know how to work the machines. And I don't have any experience in checking the crowd-"

"don't bullshit. Oka's been keeping tabs on you." he could feel him eyeing the anger that was so obviously growing on his face with the revelation._ Damn you Oka, and your stupid 'errands'! _"don't you want the raise? You could make a name for yourself," he said with a friendlier tone. Yami turned back to the dishwasher, starting to load again.

"that's not what I came here to do," he said tightly. He could feel his manager look at him more intensely. _I came here for anonymity, from the rumours that you paid cash, asked no questions, and boarded those who didn't have a home. _

"you're on, whether you like it or not. Get a quart grand from Oka and start building. I expect you to be ready." With that, he turned and left the back-room. Yami gritted his teeth as he kept loading.

The controlled world he had made was now beginning to crack.

**From everything that keeps me sane**

His mask was being wrenched off again.

**My sickness keeps me in control**

He pushed against his eyes with the heels of his hands, failing to keep the noise in his head from overflowing his senses. He needed to scream, he needed to hit somebody, he needed to let go!

He shoved himself from his desk , pushing away from anything that was within reach of his pounding hands. He was on the verge of doing something regrettable. this feeling of being out of control was alien to him: all these feelings that had started surfacing since Yami had held him were so foreign to his being, he didn't even know where to begin to handle them.

Pain. Loneliness. Frustration. Anger. Sadness. Longing. And this most elusive one that he knew, because he had it with his brother, but it was completely different, not even the flipside of the coin.

_what is it? _He lowered his hands to his lap, palms up.Friendship? Companionship? Affection? What was this warmth he felt when Yami came into his mind?

**From all the things you'll never know**

_Would someone just tell me?_ he closed his eyes, letting his thoughts wander.

**I coulda been…**

_In your arms._

**I coulda been…**

_With you._

**I coulda been…**

"with you…" he felt one corner of his mouth lift as he echoed his thoughts.

… **I am**

" I need you, Yami," he whispered, breaking. He felt the hot streams run down his cheeks, and he didn't move. He just let them come.

**You coulda been…**

He was lying on his bed with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling fan, unable to sleep. His thoughts were spinning too fast for him to keep up. he wished he could just sleep, just for those few hours he had before Oka dragged him from the flat. He couldn't believe that this was happening, that Jun had somehow found out that he had been trying out his decks.

"Damn," he swore under his breath, turning over onto his side. was it just in his cards to always be uncovered? The last time… _that last time_. His stomach twisted at the memory. He had almost been revealed. How much of his desperation had been exposed in running away? That look… his eyes. _Gods, let me forget. _

His thoughts refused to let him. they were rebelling with his heart.

The ghost of his fingertips were tracing his. Threading through his. His pale palm completely covered his hand. Holding him. squeezing his. His other fingers touching his palm. His left hand twitched against his will and he pulled it towards his chest. What was this feeling that had him in its hold?

… **you are**

"Yami, time to get going!" Oka yelled cheerfully through his door. he jerked his hand away from his tight hold in fright. "Yami!"

"I'm coming!" he shouted back, folding the hurt back into place.

* * *

"what about this?" Oka offered, holding up a sleeve. Yami looked at the title, and then shook his head, turning back to the row of F's. "come on," he groaned. "we've been at this for three hours already." Yami raised an eyebrow, still rifling.

"you could have avoided all of this if you hadn't told Jun."

"would you stop blaming me already?" he moaned, shoving his hands deep into his jacket's pockets. "you're the one that had to go mess with the system when I wasn't there. It's not my fault that Jun asked me and I answered that it could only be you." Yami offered nothing in reply, finally picking a CD and putting it aside.

"what's your beat, anyway? Anyone would kill to be in your shoes," Oka asked curiously.

"I wouldn't," Yami muttered. He picked up his stack and started towards the sound booth. He turned back to Oka. "listen, go back to the flat. I've still got a few stores in mind, and you're really pissing me off with your hovering." Oka grinned at his irritation. Wordlessly, he handed the envelope of cash to Yami and then left with a broad smile, strolling casually from the almost empty music store.

Yami shook his head in wonder. Oka was just… well, strange. He sighed and turned back to the booth. It was going to be a very long day. He resigned himself to his forced enjoyment as he sat in the chair and attempted to fit the headphones over his hair. Growling in exasperation, he let the band hang below his chin and pressed play.

**Does it make you happy**

No, he wouldn't enjoy this. No matter how much he actually liked listening and thinking of ways to mix the music, with that strange ability of understanding all of that modern machinery, which had surfaced that one night he had been stock-taking alone, he would and could not sit there and be happy with himself.

He sighed again, pushing up the volume to drown out his thoughts. He could feel the ball in his chest rising to lodge in his throat. He shouldn't have left him alone… with every second that he wasn't there, he knew he was damaging him. he had pushed him away when he had explicitly told him he needed to save him! _Ra, if there is any way you could clear up this confusion, I would be really grateful. _The volume went up higher-

**Does it make you mad**

* * *

"Seto." Someone shook his shoulder gently. His muscles tensed as he was dredged from his dream. "Seto, you're going to be late." He opened his eyes with difficulty and stared at his brother. His normally bright eyes were dulled with worry. "Seto?" he asked again.

"I'm not going to work," he told him, his words scratching painfully in his throat.

"but you haven't been in for the past three weeks," he protested weakly. He sighed and pulled himself onto his elbows, rubbing his face in an attempt to get rid of his dream and thoughts of that morning.

"Mokuba, why aren't you at school?" he questioned, sitting upright. He still felt drained.

"it's only eight. I can bunk for another hour before they call you," he replied while tugging at his collar.

"Mokuba…" he sighed tiredly. He looked at Seto with righteous anger, yanking his hand away.

"what? What am I supposed to do? You're the one who's acting crazy! you're never here! you're either out looking for him, or you lock yourself in your study! Do you really expect me to just ignore you? you're my brother!" he shouted, his shoulders shaking. Seto stared at his little brother for a few minutes, at his trembling shoulders, fighting back tears. He turned away, unable to face him.

"Mokuba… I didn't mean to make you upset," he said with difficulty. suddenly Mokuba's arms were around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly.

"it's ok. I know you're worried. Just…" he pulled away and looked at Seto. "are you sure you can find him? he's been missing for so long." He didn't know. He kept searching because he _felt _that he should. And not just for him. Yami had run away for a reason, and he _knew _that it wasn't only because of what he had said, what he had revealed that had been just as much a shock to him as Yami. He gave Mokuba a very tired and small smile.

"do you want me to drive you?" Mokuba beamed at him, at his obvious effort to cheer him, and probably because he would be going outside without Yami in mind. "go pick a car, I'll be done in fifteen minutes."

* * *

Mokuba waved at him before entering his class. His teacher followed him, her face a bright red. Seto felt no satisfaction at using his status as KaibaCorp president over her, and it showed as he walked heavily through the school back to his car. Grey light filtered through rain clouds that seemed like a permanent fixture this autumn. He had no intention of going anywhere soon, so just leaned against the hood of the car and looked listlessly into the sky.

Maybe he should just give up. quit. This was an area of being human that he had no experience in, and applying his normal way of dealing with a problem obviously wasn't working. He rubbed his eyes roughly. _More things to add to this mess_. He hated the idea of it, but what more could he do? Clearly Yami didn't want to be found... He sighed. _Get in the car, Seto._ He unlocked the door, and then stopped. He looked back up at the sky, felt the thunder roll through the heavy air.

Something had changed. Something intangible. Was it his decision to stop? He didn't know. He felt a bitter taste rise in the back of his throat. It couldn't be that easy, that simple… all it had brought, how could it be so… guiltless…innocent…

To let go?

**Why am I still laughing**

It came out of nowhere: a place that didn't exist, deep inside him. a feeling of release. A feeling of torn peace. It shook his body, hard and harder; he had to hold himself up by the roof of the car, it had him so tightly in its grip. it was silent, quiet, and then whispered.

Laughter. Freedom. He had his forehead resting on his crossed hands. Shaking, why couldn't he see it?

**Look at what you had!**

What had he ever thought in those past thoughts? What had he been hoping for? he knew those things didn't exist; just idiotic, weak, pitiful actions that controlled the mass that ignorantly refused to think higher. Why had it ever been an option, that possibility? It didn't exist, he knew from long days that it was just an act: something that was made by people who denied reality.

Why had he thought it was good? Why had he ever wanted to change? He knew better, he knew it didn't exist, and to realise it, now, in this moment, he realized he had been caught in its snare, and by his own choice. Why was that bubble dream any better than the reality of his hard work and success? The laughter stopped, and he pulled in breath, straightening.

He looked up at the sky, and shook his head; slipped then into the car. He shook his head again: why had he been so stupid? So weak?

_Never again. _he knew his future. And it didn't include a… _him_.

* * *

**Does it make you feel good**

He jerked awake at the thunderclap that shuddered through the flat. One earphone pulled out from his ear, aching where it been pushed against the plastic surface and the pillow. He pulled the other one out and let it drop on the bed as he pulled himself up. another clap of thunder rang out from the sky, and he was just as unprepared for it as the previous one: he jumped in mammalian fear, feeling his heart beat against his ribs.

He rubbed a hand across his face. Something wasn't right. He stood up and walked into the communal bathroom next to his room, locking it behind him. something wasn't right. He turned on the light, and without looking at the mirror over the basin, turned the cold tap on and splashed his face. He hung over the basin for a while, leaving his eyes closed. And then stood up, opening his eyes to their reflection.

He jerked back in shock, turning around in the process and crashing into the shelves that held everyone's separate toiletries, upsetting them and sending their contents to clatter against the tiles in their fall, him going down with them. He felt his heart trying to escape from his chest. He was too afraid to look. He breathed out a shuddering breath. He had to.

**Does it make you sick**

he eventually stood, ducking his head below the mirror's horizon. And then he looked. Nothing but him. he suddenly fell to the floor, gripping the toilet and heaving everything that he had in him, which wasn't much. He ended up dry-retching and forced himself to breathe. He fell away limply from the bowl.

What the hell had he seen? He felt his stomach lurch at the thought and hurried back to the toilet, but nothing happened, just nerves. He squeezed his eyes shut. What had he seen? That forced a reaction like this out? It was a dream, an imagining. But he would never…

**That you knew that I would**

he would never… he could never… could he?

**Be the one to trip!**

Nothing would ever prepare him to see those dead eyes, finally blank and cold in the real sense of the words…

**I coulda been…**

… **I am**

_I can't keep the silence. I have to contact them. If only… that vision, if only to prevent that from happening. Ra, what am I doing? What am I doing to us? I don't know what to do anymore. I don't want to be hurt again, why do I have to sacrifice myself so that they won't be the victims of their own?_

**You coulda been…**

_I just want to be gone…_

… **you are**

_But I have nowhere to go… _he felt his fingers pressing down on something and picked up the object. The plastic holding it in had fractured and now was bent in a V, pushing the flat plane up and out. He ran his finger across the tip; for a second, there was no reaction… and then, a rushing line…

**No control**

* * *

"seto! Phone!" Mokuba yelled from downstairs. He reached for the handset next to his laptop and pushed the flashing 'on' switch. He heard Mokuba put the phone down on the other receiver.

"what?"

"Kaiba?"

"who is this?"

"it's yugi."

"what do you want?

"I thought I should let you know…" he trailed off. Seto waited impatiently, his grip on the phone tightening with each second at the similar voice. He thought he had put it far from his mind…

"I thought you should know…" he trailed off again, hesitant. Seto snapped.

"what!"

"I got a letter from Yami." Seto felt the air knocked out of him. The walls he had rebuilt went crashing down all around him. he tried to speak but the words lodged in his throat. What could he have said anyway? "he says he's fine, and that he's sorry for making us wait to hear from him."

"when…?" he finally managed to squeeze out. He felt his heart clenching painfully in his chest as it all came flooding back. Why did he ever try and forget? _Why did I want to..._

"it's dated last week Monday, the 3rd. he didn't write much. Just that he's sorry, he's alright, that he's got a job and place to stay, and that he'll write again to keep me from worrying." He paused. Seto ran a hand through his hair in agitation. He was weak, he knew that: weak and stupid in wanting that chance that he had conjured up. he felt himself falling back into that confused wanting, of that something that Yami had brought out.

"did he…" he faltered. He didn't know how to say what he needed to say to him, what he really wanted to know, what he needed to know, from that place still walled off in his chest. Yugi seemed to understand.

"he didn't say anything about you," he said softly. "I'm sorry, Kaiba." He didn't need his pity, not now, not ever!

"what do the postmarks say?" he asked tersely, trying to hide the twisted anger he felt at his sympathy. He had revealed too much in that search of the rival everyone knew he despised.

"uh… received 4th of the 11th, directed from Sands Metro, delivered 10th of the 11th to Domino Main Postal. But Kaiba, don't think that that's where he is. You know how unreliable that information is, especially when it's coming from Yami. He could have just taken a bus to another post office-"

"thanks Yugi, for that insightful tip," he said sarcastically, putting on his old mask. It was the only way to deal with this new information. He heard Yugi sigh.

"I was just warning you." he was, and seto couldn't be annoyed with him for just being himself. _I'm going soft._ _Damn you, pharaoh…_

"would it be possible for me to look at the letter myself?"

"sure. I'll leave it with jiichan before I go to class tomorrow. just…"

"what now?"

"never mind. Night, Kaiba." Seto hung up without replying.

Waiting.

* * *

**A Beginning. **


End file.
